


Memories in the Sand

by DaddyAizen



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 19:55:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8546989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaddyAizen/pseuds/DaddyAizen
Summary: What is a princess without subjects to rule? And who is a princess to let herself be ruled?It was never your fault for being the ignorant lamb you were. And could you blame him for using that as an advantage?





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I had this idea, and I wanted to try it out. I know at first this seems really vague, and ambiguous, but it's meant to be that way. I just needed a little thing to start it out. The rating was chosen in regards for later chapters, and more tags will be added during the course of this fic. Anyways I hope you all enjoy, and thank you so much for reading! :)

Bountiful rays of moonlight cascaded down the white tile floor. For a brief second they provided a contrast to the bland, and monochromatic floor. But the dazzling light remained flat as well. Your eyes yearned to wander the landscape of the barren desert. It intrigued you, and frightened you all in the same. Memories couldn't serve of you ever being in a land like this, and quite frankly you weren't sure your memories could serve anything but the past two days.

The jingle of crystals lightly tapping each other was beginning to become annoying. Silence would have been better than the orchestra of crystals in your hair and dress chiming together. Pursing your lips, and folding your gloved hands between silk draped thighs, a heavy sigh left your lips. Boredom.

The first night was whimsical, counting all the shimmering stars in the night sky, and basking in the glory of moonlight. But you had done that yesterday, and repetition was stale. At least if you were going to forced to stay in this blanched palace, shouldn't you be aloud to roam it freely? What was the purpose in being all dolled up with no where to go? No one was here to witness your appearance, or offer you stimulation in the context of a conversation.

You weren't sure of what you were suppose to do. Bars kept you from reaching the cool grains of the white desert, and the door was locked from the outside. And then your stomach was complaining of boredom itself. 

The lace tips of your fingers graciously reached the cloth by your thighs, hiking it up so the wispy dress wouldn't get caught in the spike of your heels. One foot followed another, clacking against the floor. The cloth swayed, and your curls bounced. 

But before you had the chance to greet the locked door, the knob twisted slightly. A false light slowly peeked from the growing crevice of the door. A man stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. His face was the epitome of beauty. Just seeing his face had flustered you. Two chocolate orbs sat symmetrically on his long face, with a well defined jaw. Hair the same color of his eyes was tousled so sloppily, it possessed a strategic neatness. And one lock of unique shape sat between the valley of his gorgeous eyes. Like you, more or less he was wearing white, and the emerald hilt of a sword poked out of hip. A prince, that's the first impression he had given your starstruck mind.

The edges of his lips were slightly turned, not to warrant a hostile expression. He extended an arm at for you. If the light was reflecting your face, it would have been a flamboyant neon red. Being a bit muggy, and foggy on your memories you didn't question any form of interaction. You didn't posses the knowledge to question the unquestionable. Shakily, your small palm was snug between his rough one. It felt so warm.

He knelt, placing a gentle kiss on the soft flesh. You couldn't help but smile. What else were you suppose to do when everything was just so foreign, and you were a bewildered child? 

You didn't get a sense of danger, or warning from him. A man this beautiful couldn't be menacing and cruel, right? Hickory eyes, floated to your perplexed face, his lips still resting on the top of your hand. "Princess," He started in a husky baritone. The tone was smooth, and rich. Like music that was spoken could be the only conclusion you could settle on. "Do you recall anything prior of the events leading up to this?"

Your face froze, and feeling disappointed you nodded your head in stern objection. No depictions of your life, or hell even a name crossed the bridges of your nerves. He had stood up again, his height now towering over you. He held a compassionate smile, "Not even a name?" "No.. Sir." 

His hand reached for a springy curl residing by your distraught face. He tugged on it lightly, and tucked it behind your ear. A calloused thumb rolling over the warm canvas of your face. Your chin tilted, to see his piercing eyes a bit more clearly. "Your name is (Name)." He coaxed, drawing tiny circles on your skin. His other hand snaked behind your waist, pulling you closer to him. You gulped.

"You are my princess. And other than that your existence has no purpose." His voice was heavenly, but the words he spoke were harsh, and peculiar. But you didn't object. You weren't entirely sure by what he meant. But as long as you were granted time in his presence it didn't matter. This whole time your bright eyes haven't left any details of his solemn face behind. 

He had given you a name, and a reason to live. Albeit a bit ambiguous, but you were sure time would fill any holes that were missed. But there was something you needed to clarify. Something that couldn't and wouldn't wait. "Sir.." You paused, biting the flesh inside your cheek. "What is your name?"

A digit of his trailed down your jugular, "My name is Aizen Sosuke. But you may call me just Aizen."

"Aizen.." You whispered under your own sacred breath. His name was even more matching than you had anticipated.

He lowered his head, the one defiant piece of hair hanging over. It tickled your nose. His hand nudged, you just a bit closer. "Close your eyes, Princess.." 

The sensation of lips were upon your own. So warm, and calming. Like the sea breeze, or a slice of fresh cake. Who really was Aizen..? And more importantly who were you in regards to him?


End file.
